Disenchanted
by Jessica-Doom
Summary: They had been given the illusion of a happy life. A short-lived illusion and now they had to deal with reality. And the reality was – Draco Malfoy was still very much a git.
1. Chapter One

**A/N: Due to some shit in my life (first round of IUI did not work out...), I'm feeling a bit depressed. But I've turned that into something beautiful. So here's a little Drarry drabble filled with some angst. The first part is Harry's POV and the second will be Draco's. Please let me know what you think; I love the easy smiles these days!**

The cat was hissing from atop the fridge. Their apartment was in such shit shape that even the damn cat couldn't stand it.

"I know," Harry muttered and leant down to right the umbrella stand. Like that would somehow fix the trashed state of their home. He set it back carefully by the door, gathering the three umbrellas with strange care. The black one was Draco's. The deep purple was his. And the ridiculous one decked out in a pepperoni pizza pattern was a bitter reminder of a silly joke.

Moral of the story: Don't get caught out in spring on a bank holiday without proper weather protection.

" _There is no way in Salazar's name that I am carrying that_ thing

 _Harry grinned, easily amused at the idea of a large, greasy pizza hanging over Draco Malfoy's surly expression. "Okay, well it's this," he gestured to the only umbrella at the bodega, "or…." He nodded out towards the street where a similarly smart-dressed man was rushing past traffic. His suit was soaked and heavy and his hair plastered his forehead in the most unattractive way. "I can't in good conscience let you walk around like that, Malfoy. You'll tarnish my good image…."_

 _The look Draco gave in response – a cross between a fed-up snarl and hidden amusement – earned him a enthusiastic blowjob later in the night._

It had been their first bought into intimacy. The first step into the reckless thing they'd been doing for the last two years.

"This is all your dad's fault," Harry grumbled towards the cat and kicked out at the shards of a broken vase. "Your dad is an idiot."

Draco Malfoy was an idiot. And Harry had almost believed he had grown out of it. He had been so close to believing that the past was behind them.

And then the Patrol showed up at their door. The sun had just begun to rise, while they had not. One of them, Harry forgot which, had declared it to be a day of rest. A day where neither of them left the bed but for food and to relieve themselves. It had likely been Draco's suggestion. He had to have known they were coming.

The look in his eyes when that knock came at the front door….

In that look, every single shred of his happiness and dreams left the endless pools of silver.

Harry would never be able to look into those eyes the same way again. He wasn't certain he _could_ ever look into those eyes again. Everything he knew about Draco Malfoy had turned out to be a lie.

He felt betrayed.

"Well, come on down," Harry chided the cat, a mangy Maine coon rightfully dubbed 'The King' (never just King, as he had rightfully earned his title as the one and only). "You'll just have to deal with the mess a bit longer. I have no motivation to clean it up. No just yet."

The King hissed once more before turning away and showing Harry his backside. He sighed, for about the thousandth time wishing they had adopted a dog, instead. In Draco's dramatic absence, he desperately wished for something to snuggle up with. "Suit yourself," he grumbled towards the rear end, "but I'm not feeding you until you come down."

He felt instantly guilty having said as much and wasted no time in tearing open a can of food. Very gingerly, he sat it atop the fridge and walked away. In his own way, The King was likely grieving, as well. He and Draco had forged a surprisingly strong bond.

"You should just get used to the idea of him being gone." Harry wasn't certain if he was still talking to the cat or to himself. It was a fact he had been trying to come to terms with since the Patrol officers tore into his home. The little bubble they had created for themselves had been desecrated. They were fools to have thought it was safe. The world had never been that kind to either of them.

The living room looked like a war zone. But their bedroom definitely had it worse. The mattress was completely askew and most of the clothing they owned was now on the floor. Harry stepped on a tossed book in the doorway and winced when he heard the spine crack. He lifted his foot to peek at the title before slamming it down again with more force. He couldn't exhibit his anger on Draco so he would have to settle for taking it out on his things for now. Starting with the flowery book of poetry he cherished more than any human he'd ever known. Harry included.

Another inside joke…. Harry hadn't been so aware of these little things before. But now in Draco's absence, it was all he could see. The little things that made them fall in love. The little things that now felt like a betrayal. Just more layers on the lies he had believed.

Harry desperately wanted to hate Draco Malfoy and his gorgeous face and all of those secret meaningful looks they had. He wanted to hate the two years they'd had together. But the rage just wouldn't come. He'd had enough time by now to try. Twenty-two hours spent in the DMLE waiting room, harassing anyone important he could find for an update. And who knows how long it would be before he was able to see his gorgeous, dumb face again. The trial wasn't for a couple weeks. And he certainly didn't deserve visitors in the meantime.

He had to keep reminding himself of that. All he wanted was to go see him, even if it were behind bars, if only just to demand an explanation.

" _It's all a misunderstanding, Harry. I promise," Draco rushed to say, the image of him forever spoiled by the officers forcing him into submission with a binding charm. "You believe me, don't you?"_

He didn't. That is to say, he didn't anymore. He had believed Draco at first. But then they found the broach – a cursed object so powerful it had to be kept in a specific charmed box and could only be handled with dragon-hide gloves. It was hidden inside the air vent of all places. Draco hadn't even _tried_ that hard.

Flopping down on the skewed mattress, half of his body tilting towards the floor, Harry slammed his eyes shut. He tried for just a moment to pretend that nothing was wrong. That he was just about to wake up from a weird dream and they could both laugh it off. Together. That Draco was slumbering by his side and The King was curled at their feet.

But the world was too tilted for pretend. And Draco Malfoy was apparently still a terrible person.

Perhaps the last two years had just been pretend. Perhaps Draco had just been pretending the while time. From the first moonlit kiss to the last orgasms of their lazy morning sex. He had pretended he could be soft and innocent and stay on a straight path. All while sneaking behind Harry's back. Bringing cursed objects into the delicate balance of their life. Storing forbidden texts surreptitiously on their bookshelf, right between Walt Whitman and a tattered copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_. Threatening whistleblowers with dark magic while Harry was pulling a long shift at St. Mungo's.

The Malfoy name was so sullied that Draco couldn't find a job. Harry paid for everything, but he didn't mind it. He had his parents' vault still and tapped into it when necessary. But they survived okay on his salary. He taught self-defense classes through the hospital. He loved it.

He loved everything about the life they had built together.

Draco must not have loved it. There must have been something missing. Or he must have resented Harry for what he couldn't have himself. Why else would he ruin everything they had by turning back to dark magic?

Really, Harry could simply have all the answers he wanted if he were to just go talk to Draco. Get his side of the story. Allow him to explain, if he did indeed have an explanation.

But he couldn't. He was scared of what he would hear if he asked. His mind could only conjure the worst. The only possible outcome he could see to this was an ending.

And he didn't want this to end.

" _I honestly thought this was a one-off…."_

 _Harry frowned, shamefully putting back the dinnerware. He had made dinner. It was a bit burnt and probably over-salted…but he had made it and it still felt special. Except apparently he had mis-read things. That rainy day of strange adventure hadn't been a date. And the letter he had sent asking for a second one had obviously been a mistake. "I, uh…."_

 _Draco was silent for an agonizingly long moment. His silver eyes were cold and Harry was sure he was ready to turn on his heel and leave. Until he shrugged, brushing off his previous statement, and leaned against the counter next to Harry._

" _That smells dreadful. We should order take-away."_

Their relationship had been full of those near-endings. It was inevitable that one of them would eventually stick.

The longer he laid there, the deeper his fear became. If he wasn't careful here, he could lose everything they had fought for. Well…fought for sounded a bit extreme. His friends and the Weasleys – who he considered more as family – had taken to their relationship better than expected. Even the uptight Purebloods in Draco's life didn't put up too much of a fuss. Harry had vouched for many of them after the war. He had a feeling that swayed things. But just _telling_ all of them had felt like a battle in itself. The anticipation was far worse than the actual outcome.

It seemed the universe had been storing the pain for later. They had been given the illusion of a happy life. A short-lived illusion and now they had to deal with reality.

And the reality was – Draco Malfoy was still very much a git. But Harry was committed now and he supposed he should at least try to hear the git out. Even if it was just because he might have the opportunity to punch him if things turned out to be as much of a mess as they seemed to be.

In a very childish display, Harry slunk down the skewed part of the mattress and fell into a heap on the floor. He curled his knees to his chest and let loose a loud groan. The King echoed back a pathetic mewl from his perch. For some reason, that sealed it for him. He was going to be an adult and go back to the Ministry. Not for Draco, but for the damn cat.

Definitely not for purely selfish reasons.

"Alright, alright…I'm gonna try and get your dad home again," Harry grumbled towards the kitchen after he'd pulled himself up off the floor. He groaned again at the mess of their apartment before stalking to the door. "But you better not cry if I can't. You might be stuck with me and I need you to try and live with that."

Behind him, The King mewled again like he was consenting. Harry tried to stop himself from grinning as he left and made his way to the disapparation point.


	2. Chapter Two

**A/N: And here's the conclusion! And it doesn't feel very much like a conclusion to me. I think there's another story that needs telling here. But we'll see about that. For now, this is it. Be sure to follow just in case, though ;)  
** **We try again with IUI in about a week, if I could get some good vibes or prayers or whatever it is you believe in I would certainly appreciate it. Warnings again for possible slowness with updates and such. As always, love you all and can't wait to hear what you're thinking!**

* * *

The truth was, Draco should have been behind these bars years ago.

It was only fitting that he were here now. The universe was right and finally back in balance. He was here, locked up and facing trial and Harry Potter was on the other side, giving him that _look_.

He probably didn't even know his face looked like that. Smug. Angry. An 'I knew it' not all that far off.

"So…I take it you're not being charged as a co-conspirator," Draco finally said. He had been waiting for Harry to take the first word. He so desperately wanted the yelling and blaming to just be over and done with. But they had been warned that visits were shortly timed and the silence had taken enough of their allotted minutes.

Harry sighed. Heavy, like just being here pained him. "I don't even think they considered the thought."

Of course they hadn't. Most of the Wizarding world had been just waiting for something like this to happen. The papers and tabloids had questioned their relationship from the start. If it were possible, Draco's name had become even dirtier from the instant they went public. There had even been rumors that he was only in this for ulterior motives. Whoever started those rumors must feel at least half-validated after his very public arrest the morning before.

"So…."

He was waiting on an explanation. Draco owed him that, at the very least. But there was no good way to put that into words. The explanation, no matter how he spun it, would in no way be able to redeem him now. Head bowed like a defeated dog, Draco stepped back until his calves hit the cold metal of his cot. He gingerly sat, vastly out of place in his tailored suit against the backdrop of the concrete-walled cell and the thin, dirty mattress with no sheets.

As much as he belonged here, he sure didn't look the part. Not yet.

Draco had never been able to appropriately conjure the image of his father at Azkaban, either. He spent many nights during his sixth year at school trying to do just that. Lucius, so poised and in-control at all times, never seemed the sort to survive well in a cell. The two images just didn't mesh.

But once he came home, looking half the man he had once been, suddenly Draco was able to picture it all too clearly. He knew what was in store for him from his father's stories. He knew if he ever walked away from this, he would never be the same again.

What the Patrol officers found in their apartment, however, made it highly unlikely that he would be walking away.

"It really is just a misunderstanding," Draco said to his knotted hands. Feebly begging for pity where he definitely didn't deserve it. "The items they found…they weren't mine." The tired excuse 'I'm holding them for a friend' sprang to mind and his cheeks darkened.

" _I just need you to hold onto them until the heat wears off. Until they stop looking. I can't get caught in these raids."_

Harry snorted and Draco couldn't blame him for his disbelief. "Then clear it up for me, Draco." His voice was more strained than Draco could remember it being since their reconciliation. Even his body was tight. There was anger in every single part of Harry. The warmth and laughter he cherished was gone.

If this were so easy, Draco would have done it months ago. Right now he was wishing he had. Perhaps then they wouldn't be in this mess. "I can't…," he said to the floor. "I can't tell you…why I had those things. And I can't tell you whose they are. I can't tell you anything…."

There was an unspoken code amongst Purebloods. It only existed because of heavy Pureblood involvement with dark wizards and dark magic. It was a code of protection with unspeakable consequences. These consequences could range from shunning to cursing on unimaginable levels. But it wasn't the risk that held them in place. It was expectation.

" _I know I can trust you, Draco. You're the only one I know that has my back."_

His silence was expected. And that's why _he_ was in this cell.

"Bullshit," Harry spat, seemingly unable to keep his distance any longer. He stepped right up to the bars, fingers white around them. Draco couldn't fault him for that seething hatred in his eyes.

They'd had such a good thing. For two years, Harry had looked at him with nothing but sweetness and adoration. It felt redeeming. Waking up next to him every morning felt…like something he didn't deserve. Kissing him until they were both breathless and aching for more felt like heaven. Sneaking secret glances and sharing inside jokes felt like he was real. Like what they had was real.

And then Harry looked at him like this and he was vividly reminded of how fleeting of a privilege it was to even have had the time he did.

"Do you…do you remember the snowstorm last winter?" Harry just stared blankly at Draco, clearly not following. "The one that knocked out the power for two days?"

"Y…yeah, what of it?" Harry snapped impatiently.

Standing once again, Draco crossed the cell. Settled up against the bars and layered his hands over Harry's. "I can't think of a time in my life that I have ever been as happy as I was in those two days," Draco whispered.

Harry loosed his hands and shoved them in his pockets. "And what does that have to do with your charges?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Draco pressed even closer to the cold bite of the bars. He was just able to reach Harry. Just barely able to link his fingers into Harry's belt loops. With a violent tug, he pulled Harry closer. Harry's chest hit the bars, the sound ringing in their ears. His verdant eyes were shining with a new emotion. A fear Draco had never seen before.

There was no way he could deny the flutter that glint put in his stomach.

"What I loved most about those two days was that we don't need power. We don't need the Muggle technology. We can conjure practically anything we want with a wave of our wands. And yet…neither one of us talked about that. We just went along with the rest of our building. We just…settled into our little apartment, huddling together for warmth. _Fucking_ for warmth. Gorging ourselves on food before it went bad. Arguing over a small flashlight once the sun went down. Telling secrets in the silence of the night. Just you and me…in our own little bubble away from the rest of the world. Away from the expectations the rest of the world has for us. It was just me and you…and after those two days I knew I loved you.

"And I _knew_ I would never want to do something to fuck that up."

"What do you call this, then?"

But he had. Draco had fucked it all up and there was no other way to put it.

"I was just helping out a friend," Draco said in a voice so quiet, it might have just been the wind.

XxX

 _Draco had to have known what was coming. He hadn't seen any of his school friends since the end of the war. They had all gone their separate ways without a single discussion about it._

 _And then Theodore Nott showed up at his door, grinning like they were still good pals. "You gonna invite me in?"_

 _Frowning, Draco looked back into the apartment. Harry was at work, but he wasn't sure for how much longer. Not that he thought there would be a problem if he was seen conversing with Theo. He had never been much of a problem. He was quiet and had always been relatively uninvolved. And after his own father's arrest, he had actively avoided sympathizing with the Death Eaters. Out of any of them, he was the least threatening._

" _Uh…yeah, come in. Want something to drink?"_

" _I'm good." Theo walked through the doorway, his motions a bit fidgety. Like he was nervous. Draco was instantly on edge. "I just need to talk to you. It won't take long. I shouldn't be here long…."_

 _Draco settled onto the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "What's this about, then? I take it we're not sitting down for a lovely little chat. I don't get the sense you want to catch up…."_

 _With a twitchy shrug, Theo fingered the zipper of the satchel at his hip. "Malfoy, I…." He sighed like what he had to say was heavy and difficult. "There's been rumor of a new set of raids starting soon. I have apparently made the list. And…could use your help."_

" _I have no pull at the Ministry," Draco seethed. It was a well-known fact that his family had lost any standing they had ever had._

 _And Theo seemed well aware of that. He also knew good and well just who Draco shared this apartment with. His gaze had lingered on a photo of them on the wall. Molly Weasley had taken the candid photo last Christmas. Harry was laughing about something ridiculous and Draco had his face buried in the man's neck. "That's not quite what I meant…. You're out of the radar, Malfoy."_

 _With a nod, Draco sat up straight. Slowly, everything was coming together. His heart was racing with the fear of what that might entail, but he couldn't bring himself to tell Theo to leave. Draco had his break from the shit. This home he had built with a man he truly loved was his good luck. Giving Theo a small break, whatever it was he was asking for, was probably the right thing to do. "Is there something in that bag you could go down for?" Draco asked softly._

 _Theo chuckled nervously. He held the bag closer, pressing it against his chest. "It's all I have left of my father," he whispered. "I know it's stupid, but I'm not interested in debating that. I just need someone to hold onto them for me until after they raid my place. And I think they would be safe here. No one would dare touch you. Not while you're with him." He knocked his head towards the photo on the wall. "I just need you to hold onto them until the heat wears off. Until they stop looking. I can't get caught in these raids."_

 _Draco opened his mouth to protest but found he couldn't locate the words. His conscience was too loud in his head._

" _I know I can trust you, Draco. You're the only one I know that has my back."_

 _XxX_

The only reason Theo had known that was because of that damn code. Draco wouldn't snitch even if he was caught. Despite the distance between them these last few years, Theo was still a friend and he would protect him for as long as necessary. Even if that meant going to prison for him. It didn't seem fair or right, but it was what it was.

"Was this 'friend' the whistleblower that you threatened?"

Harry was far smarter than he appeared. It wasn't good for him. Draco winced at the question and averted his eyes. His fingers loosened on the belt loops, but Harry didn't step away this time. He stayed close against the bars, his face far softer. His expression far more lenient and full of sudden understanding. "I can't answer that."

"Not even to me?"

Honestly, Draco would do anything for Harry. If he would go to prison for a friend, he would literally lie down and _die_ for the love of his life. But these two things didn't cancel each other out. He had to find a way to do both. Even if that meant only seeing that love of his life from the inside of a cell for the rest of his life. "Especially not to you…," Draco said, his voice breaking. Everything within him breaking. "You're probably trying to do everything you can to get me out of here. I can't trust you won't tell the investigators anything I tell you."

Theo had, of course, been the supposed whistleblower he had threatened. And apparently that had been the nail in his coffin.

It had been months since Draco agreed to hold the items for Theo. And for months, Draco had waited on bated breath for another knock on his door to take the pressure away. The knock he had been expecting, however, did not come. Exactly twelve hours after he had confronted Theo, the Patrol was at their door. Tearing through their home. He had threatened to do just this to his friend, just trying to scare him. Because Draco was scared…. He hadn't liked lying to Harry.

And he sure didn't like it now.

"So you're just going to rot in Azkaban for this _friend_?"

Theodore Nott didn't deserve this kind of grace. Not to this extent. Especially not if he had framed Draco as he suspected. But Draco wasn't going to crack against the code. He wasn't going to disgrace his name any further with the only community he had left.

"Harry…." Draco shook his head resolutely, for a moment triggering a hopeful smile from the other. "I'm the one who had the forbidden objects. It is technically my crime. And I'll go down for it if I have to.

"I'm sorry."

The guard knocked twice on the door before re-entering the holding area. "Time's up. You gotta leave now, Mr. Potter."

What little time they had was gone. Draco hadn't given Harry what he needed and Harry…likely couldn't give Draco the patience he was begging for. The anger had returned to Harry's features as he stepped back and signaled to the guard for just a second more. The deeply buried optimistic side of Draco hoped it was to sneak a kiss or whisper one last soft word.

But all Harry did was look at him for a long moment before turning on his heel. He didn't even look at Draco when he spat, "I _will_ fix this," before stalking out.

And Draco didn't doubt that he would. He was just worried as to how that would happen and where they would be left when it did.


	3. Chapter Three

**A/N: See, I knew I just wasn't finished... Here's the other voice that just NEEDED to be heard in this tale.  
** **As always, please let me know what you're thinking. I'm always curious to hear any and all comments! Thank you.**

* * *

Harry Potter hadn't been a part of the plan.

There hadn't even _been_ a plan, really. Theo's intentions hadn't really been anything but honest in the beginning. He just wanted to stay out of Azkaban. His father was there for the rest of his life. He didn't want to end up like his father. That was something he had never wanted.

Theo hadn't gone to Draco's apartment with bad intentions. But he sure as hell left with the foundations for some.

Draco had a good thing going. A good life. He had done far worse things than Theo had ever dreamed of. He had taken the Mark, for Salazar's sake! There was no doubt in his mind that Draco had killed people. Or at the very least, he had been the reason people had died. That was just as terrible. He didn't deserve the good life he had.

The bitterness hadn't existed before Theo set foot in that apartment. They were friends, even after the years of no contact. But the instant he saw that sweet photo on the wall, jealousy and hatred sunk in.

Draco Malfoy didn't deserve Harry Potter. He didn't deserve to be cushy and happy. There was nothing good inside of Draco.

Theo couldn't let him have that life.

For months, Theo avoided these thoughts. All he wanted was to be safe. The Ministry came and raided his family home – what was left of it – and found nothing. The objects he gave Draco to hold onto were all he had left of his broken family. He was left with the home, but not much else after it and the family vaults had been raided for war reparations. There was literally nothing else to find.

The deal had been that he would go back for his things after the raid. But he held back. Something in his gut was nagging at him to hold back. To wait for Draco to come to him. If he was as desperate as he seemed to keep the perfect life he had, he would come to him.

And he would, indeed, be desperate.

Desperation took the unexpected form of anger and violence. Theo had barely opened the door before Draco was shoving a wand in his face.

" _Would you like to know the benefit of being on amicable terms with Hermione Granger?" Draco hissed, pushing Theo back into his house with a rough shove. "She's_ chatty _. And if you set her on even the vaguest path of what you're searching for, she will tell you all that you want to know._

" _Your raid was months ago, Theodore. You passed. So why do I still have your incriminating shit in my home?"_

 _The greatest skill Theo possessed was that he could keep a calm face even though his insides had turned to nervous jelly. He didn't even_ blink _. He just very calmly pushed the tip of the wand from his temple and said coolly, "I haven't the faintest what you're on about."_

And that was when Theo made up his mind. Draco had threatened to go to the Ministry. And that seemed like a fine plan to steal. Especially since not a single soul hesitated to believe that Draco would undeniably be the sort. Besides, in their absence Theo came to realize he could easily live without his father's belongings. He felt freer with them gone.

Still, once the tip had been given and the lies spun, Harry Potter hadn't quite been a part of Theo's plan. He had really only _planned_ to take Draco out of the equation. Not insert himself in his place.

But when he found that exact man nursing a forgotten pint at his own favorite pub…how was he supposed to resist trying?

"Can I buy you a fresh drink? Or did you want to stare at that one a bit longer?"

It wasn't a smooth way to start, but that was pretty much the goal. Theo wanted to be everything Draco wasn't. And Draco was undoubtedly a smooth-talker.

With a hollow smile, Potter barely looked up. His head was obviously lost in thought. He was pining and could have possibly been crying. His eyes were furiously red and shining. "I'm good, thanks."

Swallowing the rejection like a bitter pill, Theo allowed himself one more shot. If Potter turned him down again, he would walk away and try to put this mess he'd created behind him. "I'm the one who put your boyfriend in prison. Buying you a beer to drown your sorrows in is the least I could do."

This whole plan banked on Draco being the perfect little Pureblood he had always bragged to be. If he kept to that code of protecting your own, Theo was in the clear. And by the look of unbridled shock on Potter's face in that moment, Draco was doing just as he was expected to.

"Theodore Nott?" Potter asked in a stilted whisper. He was staring at Theo with extreme intensity. Like he was just now seeing who had decided to bother him. Like he had thought he was just brushing off a stranger. "You…. You're the whistleblower?"

Theo nodded and took the seat across from Potter. He hadn't been invited to. He was sure that invitation would never come. If he wanted this, he had to take it. He had to exert gentle force to get what he deserved.

In the span of a silent minute, Potter's face flipped through about ten different emotions. He couldn't settle on just one reaction. It was clear he didn't know how he felt about this. Possibly about any of it. And that would definitely work out in Theo's favor. "But you're his friend…. No, that's not true. Draco doesn't have friends these days. He said he had to distance himself. I guess I thought he did that to _avoid_ dark magic. Guess I was wrong….."

"I just don't think Draco knows who he is these days," Theo supplied gently. He stared intently at Potter until their eyes finally met. And then he offered that dazzling smile filled with so much fake sympathy. "He fell back into bad behaviors and tried to bring some of us in, as well. It wasn't fair of him to do that to us. It wasn't fair of him to do that to _you_. I had to get the Ministry involved…. And I'm terribly sorry to have to do that to someone I used to call a friend."

Potter's face finally settled on an emotion. He was back to looking somber and possibly even near tears. "Thank you.… Uh, for not telling me he was a bad person. I know my friends mean well, but I've heard enough 'I told you so's to last me a lifetime."

The longer this conversation progressed, the harder Theo was finding it to pay attention to the words coming out of Potter's mouth. He had certainly become a distracting man. When had that happened? Probably around the time he grew that close-cut beard. Or when he finally bought some well-fitting casual clothes. Or maybe he had always been this attractive. Maybe he had just never noticed when they were surrounded by clouds of their own expectations.

"You're still planning to stay with him?" Theo questioned after a long beat. Probably too long. He was being sloppy, but had to keep reminding himself that it should work out in the end. If he were Potter right now, he'd want something entirely different. He'd want to take comfort in that.

He would want to move on and fast.

Potter shrugged, thumbing a water droplet on his glass. "I haven't quite decided that, yet." His words were soft and shaky. Like he wasn't sure of much of anything.

Like he was malleable and easy to sway. Theo had to hold back a grin in response to his wavering. Potter didn't even know it, but he was playing right into his hands.

"I've spent two years of my life on our relationship. I spent two years…thinking I was with a man I knew inside and out. The secrets we've shared…. I didn't think there was much I didn't know. And to find out there was…." Potter shrugged again before pushing the glass away completely. "I just feel very betrayed. It makes me angry. And I don't really want to make a decision like that while I'm angry."

"Would you like to go somewhere to vent about it?"

For a moment, Potter only blinked in response to Theo's question. Questioning the motive behind it, no doubt. He wasn't stupid. But he was vulnerable and did eventually nod in assent. Theo was in. A few more calculated moves and Malfoy's life would be in arms-reach.

"We could go back to mine," Theo offered the instant they stepped outside. The brisk winter air whipped against their faces, putting the idea of a simple walk out of mind. "If you want, that is. Otherwise…I know a quiet diner that stays open late. They serve okay food, too."

Potter shook his head rather adamantly. "No…no I want to go somewhere quieter. And I don't want to go home. My apartment is fucking wrecked. Every bit of it is a reminder of Draco. I can't handle that tonight." His words were as rushed as his steps. A couple paces ahead of Theo, he turned and walked backwards. "Which makes me sound like a completely stable person, right?"

That ridiculous hair was blowing in the cold wind, bringing a grin to Theo's lips. He was…adorable. Of course Malfoy fell so hard for him. "I don't think any person would be stable in your shoes," Theo chuckled, catching Potter's elbow and guiding him down an alleyway. "Do you trust me?" he asked in the dark.

"I don't _know_ you." Potter's breath was hot on Theo's neck. He was close. This was shaping up to be easier than he had anticipated. Or maybe that was just his wishful thinking. It was easy to accidentally step on someone's toes in pitch black darkness.

It was a little less easy to fold snugly into their arms. Theo's breath caught in his throat. Potter wasn't drunk and this wasn't sloppy. It was completely on purpose. Those hands in his back pockets were most definitely _on purpose_. And he found he had no words in response to them. Nor did he have his next move ready and waiting.

He wasn't in control anymore.

But that didn't mean he was backing off from his intentions.

"Does that make you more comfortable?"

"Tonight it does…."

For the briefest of moments, Theo considered he might be getting played. There was a sick feeling in his gut that this was too good to be true. It was happening too fast.

A feeling he pushed aside perhaps too quickly. He had been dreaming about exactly this for the last few months. He had spent many sleepless nights imagining himself in Malfoy's place.

That stubble grazing his chin. Sure, practised hands exploring his body. The promise of filth on Potter's shaking breath.

"And your boyfriend?"

"Fuck him."

Fuck him, indeed.

"Deep breath," Theo warned before pouring all of his concentration into disapparating. Well…most of his concentration. There were a few of his cells adamantly trained on Potter's hands and their secure location on his ass.

This wasn't something Theo had ever done before. He was insanely aware of this from the moment their feet hit the hard wood of his bedroom floor. He had never taken a bloke (or a woman, for that matter) home with the express intent of having sex. It wasn't something he had foreseen himself doing.

Dating wasn't something he had put too much thought into before this very moment. There wasn't one particular reason for it. He just…wasn't all that compatible with other people. Men, women, children, etc. People were exhausting. It was much easier to sit here in his empty home, dwindling away the remnants of his fortune.

He couldn't deny that it was lonely, but it was at least comfortable.

"You don't have any wards on your home?" Potter questioned, snapping back Theo's attention.

"Uh…." He shook his head to clear it. "Why? Should I be scared? That someone might try to kill me? That someone might try to rob me? I assure you, there's nothing in this house I wouldn't mind losing. Myself included. The only thing someone could take from me that would bring me pain…is my freedom." Theo ambitiously followed his gut and carded fingers through Potter's unruly hair. "And no one can take that from me unless I let them."

This was one of the reasons Theo didn't talk to people. This look right here that Potter had plastered on his gorgeous face. Deep green eyes wide and doe-like and his mouth flattened into a shocked line. Already anticipating his hasty exit, Theo took a step back and rubbed the back of his neck. Giving him the space to do so.

Except…he didn't go. Potter stayed right there, his lips turning up into a sad smile over the course of a couple minutes. And then he followed Theo, closing that comfortable distance. And kissed him.

Harry Potter kissed him and suddenly the world felt different.

This was what it felt like to be Draco Malfoy. It felt powerful. It felt life-changing. It felt like everything he had done before didn't matter. Nothing up until this point right here mattered. The only thing that mattered was that Harry Bloody Potter, Saint of Saints, thought he was worthy of kissing. Everything he had done and thought was redeemed in that instant, as ridiculous as that seemed.

Potter's lips worked up Theo's jawline in agonizingly slow motion. The scratch of his beard was just as intoxicating as Theo had imagined it. More, even.

Harry Potter felt like something Theo was going to lose himself in. He didn't even care about being careful or calculating any longer. He just wanted _more_.

He just wanted this life.

This right here for the rest of his life.

The backs of Theo's knees hit the edge of his mattress and he had to shuffle to keep himself upright. He hadn't even noticed that they were travelling. That Potter was guiding them back towards his bed with an obvious one track mind. The realization thrilled him even if it was too fast and too rash. Even if they hardly knew each other and even if Theo had conned his way into this beautiful thing he was about to have.

This felt like something he'd waited a lifetime for and gave in freely to it.

A sly grin affixed to his lips, Theo settled onto the mattress. Potter looked down at him with a hard heat in his eyes. "I, uh…." He cleared his throat and suddenly the heat was gone. His eyes were fixed on the floor now and he looked shaky. A complete switch from the sure and heavy kissing just a moment ago. "I think…I need something more to drink... To be able to do this, I mean. If you want to do this, that is…."

"Never been more sure of something in my life," Theo whispered, almost afraid to say it any louder. Almost afraid if he did…he might wake up from this obvious dream. "There's a bar down in the parlor. What can I get for you?"

With a too-quick shake of his head, Potter backed off towards the door. "Just give me a minute, okay? I promise I'll come back."

Theo nodded, lying back on the duvet. Closing his eyes to the sound of Potter retreating. Listening intently for that little ' _pop_ ' that would signify his absence. Just waiting for all of this to go wrong.

Just waiting for the universe to remind him he wasn't worthy.

The relief he felt when he heard Potter's tentative footsteps back on the landing was incomparable. But he hid that wide grin and simply sat upright. Potter settled beside him, offering half a glass of scotch on the rocks. Theo accepted, eyeing the floating pieces of ice with caution. He was already feeling a bit drunk on just the feeling of what they were about to do. But it was only one drink…. And maybe if he drank it, the nervous knot at the back of his neck would be soothed.

Perhaps too eagerly, Theo gulped down the drink. He barely felt the alcohol burn the back of his throat. He was so very used to drowning himself in poison by now.

Potter's breath was soaked in liquor. He had obviously imbibed in a few more drinks before coming back. Theo should have probably questioned that. If he needed to be trashed to do this, that wasn't entirely healthy. It was a giant red flag. But he wasn't willing to lose this before he'd even had it. So he quelled the protest nagging at the back of his mind and set down his now-empty glass on the nightstand.

With a much louder snap of glass against wood, Potter did the same. He looked over at Theo with a very shaky smile. There was a very specific nervousness in his expression. Something Theo couldn't quite identify.

But a moment later that didn't matter. Potter was closing the distance between them again. He was so much braver than Theo could ever have dreamed of being. His lips taking what they wanted without a trace of doubt. So sure and so _perfect_.

"Have you ever been with a man?" Potter asked softly, his right hand settling on Theo's thigh.

"No," Theo answered quickly, the speed of his own tongue leaving him dizzy. He blinked a moment, pulling back. "No, I've never had sex."

Potter put some distance between them, as well. He examined Theo for a moment, perhaps trying to gauge if he was lying. "But you want this?" he probed. His hand was still heavy on Theo's leg, seemingly not ready to give up. Not just yet.

"Desperately."

That word didn't seem to quite cover it, but it was the closest Theo could manage. There wasn't a single cell in his body that didn't want this. Whatever happened next with Potter felt like it was going to change the rest of his life. Even if after this Potter didn't ever want to see him again…just this moment would define his life. If he was worthy of this, perhaps he deserved more in his life than he allowed.

"I'll be gentle," Potter promised, taking the permission and running with it. He gently pushed Theo back towards the pillows. Theo followed the suggestion willingly, lying back and allowing Potter to tower over him. Allowing that weight over him and relaxing into the vulnerability it brought. "Do you have a preference on your position?"

"What does Draco like?" Theo stuttered out. It felt like his skin was buzzing. His hands were shaking as he reached up to grip Potter's sides. "I want what he wanted. I want…to be whatever he was to you. I want _you_ in whatever way he had you."

Potter nodded slowly. "Draco, uh…. Draco likes to be taken. He likes…to be filled and fucked. He likes it sweet and slow at first. He likes it to last until he can hardly stand it. And then…when he just can't hold out much longer, he likes it hard and fast and messy."

"Merlin…," Theo whispered, a fire building in his belly. He wanted that. He wanted all of that. He wanted to be used and _taken_. He wanted to be slow fucked with soft whispers of 'I love you's. He wanted to be _loved_ so desperately. "I want what Malfoy has," he mewled. "I want everything he has. That's all I wanted from this."

The words graced Theo's vocal chords before he could hope to stop them. One moment they were in his head and the next…. He swallowed hard, trying to keep a relaxed expression. Trying not to let on that he might have leaked something incriminating. He vowed to police his words more closely from that moment on.

"That's all you wanted?" Potter questioned. His head tilting to the side, he smiled softly. "From what? From this?" To accentuate what 'this' was, he plunged his hands up Theo's shirt. Caressing his flushed skin and teasing a light scrape of his nails over his nipples.

"From _this_ ," Theo moaned, his spine arching at the touch. "From you and from Draco and from this mess."

"And what do you have to do with this mess?" Potter's words came out on a chuckle, but there was a hint of suspicion behind it.

Theo was better at holding himself in check than this. He was better at _lying_ than this. Or he thought he was. But something about Potter was proving to be his weakness, it seemed. No matter how carefully he was trying to pick his words, they just weren't cooperating. "Everything," Theo whined, groaning at the confession.

Something was wrong.

"Tell me exactly what that means."

Potter's words held a strange pressure. His hands were still working Theo's chest, fingers just going far enough downward to drive him crazy.

"I set Malfoy up. I put him in prison with my own incriminating items. I put him away so he couldn't have you.

"So _I_ could have you…."

With a fuzzy head and a thick tongue, Theo babbled himself right into a confession. He frowned the moment he realized what he had said and watched Potter light up with a bright grin. His gaze flicked back to the bedside table where the ice was melting in his forgotten glass. The glass of scotch Potter had poured for him rather insistently out of his view. And suddenly it all clicked.

But that didn't matter. It was too late. The damage had been done and Potter was climbing off of him with extreme satisfaction. "That's all I needed to hear," he muttered and finished off his own forgotten drink. "Thanks for making that easier than anticipated."

Theo sat up quickly and righted his shirt. An easy feat when compared to being able to right his own damn mind. He watched in growing fear as Potter, looking so self-satisfied, looked down on him with something like pity. They didn't exchange any further words. Theo didn't know if he could say a single thing in his defense. It was obvious his drink had been spiked. He wasn't certain as to what with, but he had a strong hunch.

And Potter…. He had gotten exactly what he had come for. He had lied and cheated his way into this bedroom for the express purpose of having his way. And that didn't include anything sexual in the slightest. This had all been a clever ruse.

Theo had been used. Of course it had all been too easy and he had noticed that from the beginning. Potter had been all too willing. It should have tipped him off. Of course Potter knew. He knew from the beginning that Theo had been the supposed whistleblower. He had friends at the Ministry. Of course this was a setup. Theo had been so _blind_ not to see that. His desperation and loneliness had blinded him. It was pathetic.

And now…Theo's worst fear was about to come into fruition.

His carefully guarded freedom was walking out the door and he was helpless to stop it.

He could never remember having felt more shattered in his entire life.


	4. Chapter Four

**A/N: And here it is! The final chapter. Maybe. I think. There might be one in the future, I don't know yet. But for now I'm considering this story wrapped, even if it is a bit of a shattered ending. Thanks so much for reading and please leave a comment with your thoughts!**

" _Please tell me he's saying they weren't his."_

 _Hermione bit her lip and read over the report again. "It looks quite the opposite, actually. He's confessed."_

" _He's obviously lying…. Isn't there anything you can do about that?" This wasn't the sort of thing Hermione usually handled. But she was making an exception. Just this once, she had warned. And since she had consented to helping, Harry had been pacing a hole right through the carpet of her office._

" _What is it you expect me to do?" Hermione rolled her eyes. She set the file down, pulling off her reading glasses. Levelling Harry a rather impatient look. "And are you so sure he actually_ is _lying? This does seem like a very Malfoy thing to do – cursed objects and death threats and all that…."_

 _Harry sighed heavily. Most everyone was telling him much the same. Draco had always been a bad apple and here was the proof. But he wasn't ready to settle for that, yet. He knew the man better than that. Draco deserved the benefit of the doubt and a good defense. "He as good as told me he was, Hermione. He said he was helping a friend…. Can't you have a Veritaserum Interrogation ordered?_ Force _him to tell the truth?"_

" _No. Not on him, I can't. Truth serums can't be entered into binding testimony if the subject was a Death Eater. After the mess with Mad-Eye and Barty Crouch Jr., Voldemort was training Death Eaters to withstand their effects. Therefore we can't trust what he might say under its power."_

 _His fists balled, Harry abruptly halted his pacing. He was glaring at the floor, using every ounce of restraint he had not to train that look on his friend. The policy wasn't her fault. "He was just a kid, Hermione. I doubt if he received that kind of training."_

 _Hermione's was softer and more sympathetic when she whispered her apology. "Rules are rules," she added for good measure. As if that explained everything she ever needed to know._

XxX

Harry hadn't wanted to have to do it. To himself. To Draco. To Nott….

What he had done wasn't fair to any of them.

And he hadn't expected to feel any sympathy for Theodore Nott. But what he had said in his moments of vulnerability and the kindness he had exhibited and his cold, lonely house….

He might have framed Draco, but he didn't deserve Azkaban, either.

Harry had been reluctant to do anything with the information he had obtained. He sat in his and Draco's destroyed apartment all night, too restless and conflicted to sleep. But by the time the morning rolled around, he saw no other way. This place felt empty without Draco. It always would. And the longer he dragged this out, the uglier that absence was going to feel.

"Hermione, I've done something stupid," was the first thing Harry said since it happened. He barged into his friend's office, threw the little Muggle tape recorder on the desk, and practically threw himself into a chair.

"Good morning to you, too," Hermione muttered around the mug of coffee at her lips. "What stupid thing have you done today? And be aware before you disclose…if it's a crime, I'll have to throw you into the cell beside Malfoy."

With a roll of his eyes, Harry leaned forward and pushed the ' _play_ ' button on the recorder. Theodore Nott's voice filled the small room and he rushed to turn down the volume.

" _What does Draco like? I want what he wanted. I want…to be whatever he was to you. I want you in whatever way he had you."_

Hermione lit up bright red and paused the recording. "Moving on so soon?" she whispered cautiously. "Who is that?"

Harry blushed as well and cleared his throat awkwardly. "Theodore Nott. The supposed whistleblower. And before you lecture me, yes I did sneak a peek at your file. And, yes, I know that's not legal. Spare me for a moment and just…just listen. And try not to judge."

The whole thing turned Harry's stomach. He continued the recording with his eyes firmly trained on the floor. The rest of the dirty, explicit talk and the coerced confession. The way he absolutely shattered a man's dreams and life with one simple potion slip. Things he couldn't be proud of no matter how he spun it.

The air went quiet and still Harry couldn't meet Hermione's eyes. He could just _feel_ the judgement in her gaze. He didn't have to look at her to know that the sigh she leaked through her nose meant she was disappointed.

"I told you…Veritaserum confessions aren't permissible."

He nodded, his head falling into his hands. "On a Death Eater. Nott was never a Death Eater."

"Where did you even _get_ Veritaserum? That's a regulated substance."

"You warned me not to disclose illegal activity…."

Again, Hermione sighed heavily. "Harry…."

"I just want Draco home, Hermione," Harry whispered. Finally, he raised his eyes and met her probing look. "He's innocent. This proves that, doesn't it?"

After a beat, Hermione nodded and pulled the recorder closer. She rewound the tape, head still resignedly bobbing. "This was, indeed, stupid, Harry…. But I'll see if it helps at all. Go home. I'll owl you when I know anything."

Harry wasn't proud of what he had done. The slump in his shoulders was absolute proof of that. But if it brought his boyfriend home, he knew he could find a way to live with it. He whispered a quiet 'thank you' to his friend and left her office. His stomach was in knots and there was deep guilt buried in his gut.

But if this brought Draco home, he could live with that. He could learn to live with just about anything if they could only just be happy once again.


End file.
